Another Price
by CrushedShattered
Summary: An alternate ending for The High Lord, in which the dagger goes through the right person.
1. Prologue

**D****isclaimer****: I don'****t own the Black Magician trilogy. **

**A/N****: I**** have simply nothing against Akkarin dying (I think that****'****s why I love him so much) other than it was****…****gah, technically absurd. I ask you: what is the point of those shields if your opponent can control ****what**** is behind it? ****A****re the magicians that stupid? (Yes, I****'****m sort of asking if Akkarin and Sonea are so stupid) a shield is of no use if you can heat the air around your ****adversary**** and simply cook him/her. OK, ****I**** am just so evil. *sighs* Akkarin, why do you pay so much attention to Warrior skills? You are so rigid. ****S****o /noble/. ****T****hat is your fatal flaw. T.T**

**B****ut in this fic, sadly another ****'I**** love Akkarin so ****I'****m gonna write more about him****'**** fic, Sonea will realize this ground-breaking flaw in ****shields****. XD **

**Please read and review, and skip the part in italics if you****'****re ****squeamish****. ****I****t****'****s just a nightmare. :D **

Epilogue

_H__e was there again. _

_The __yeels were already upon him. Akkarin screamed as the teeth of the animals sank into his flesh, tearing__…_

_B__etween the screams he could hear Kariko__'__s voice chanting._

"_You know __what__ we do to slaves who run away, especially __with__ the assistance of magic? __O__h yesss__…__ we send the yeels after them, have the animals tear up their legs when they__'__re worth keeping, or simply eat them up. __W__ell, the latter seems great. Yeeli, Tassk!__"_

_Akkarin could hear the sickening, indescribable sound as another chunk of his flesh was torn out. __H__e heard himself pleading, begging for it to stop. __B__ut only jeers, laughter and the red glow in the horizon answered. _

_H__e felt a sudden pain in his __shoulders__ and was forced to watch a yeel standing over him. Involuntarily Akkarin tried to move away, but was pinned to ground._

_F__or a moment they stared at each other, the yeel contemplating him and Akkarin whimpering as he realized the true agony had arrived. __T__hen the yeel opened its mouth, already splattered with his blood, and__―_

Akkarin's own scream wrenched him out of the nightmare. His eyes were open but it was too bright and everything was a whitish blur. Or was it because he was crying? Oh how his legs hurt! For just an instant when he woke up, he'd been convinced that he was fine, that this had never happened… But he was still in this place, where whatever covered him felt so…massive.

His legs throbbed, as did his head. His senses were telling him that many parts of his body stun and ached. Still shaking form the dream, he felt himself being pulled gently into someone's arms. Not bothering to control himself he whimpered and moaned as hands and rougher cloth rubbed against his bruises and old scars, cold against him bare skin.

His left cheek was pressed against the person's chest. He could hear the thumping of his or her heartbeat, also soft words murmured to him, which he could not understand due to his own choked sobs. He felt the soft, smooth quilt folded over his back.

Suddenly an image of that yeel reappeared; its bloody jaws were open wide, coming nearer. Uttering a strangled cry, Akkarin felt his body jerk. Another wave of nausea came over and he thought his lips were moving, babbling nonsense. It hurt to talk, but he could help it.

His name was being called, a hand stroked his hair and patted him ever so gently. The touch was so familiar. The strong arms had held him before many times, he knew. But he couldn't remember when or where…

/

The Ichani Invasion had caused almost no casualties. The Healing Quarters were even quieter than ever. And the man who had made this possible, who had made the Healing Quarters' current existence possible, lay wounded and shattered in a room here.

But without him, would the Invasion have happened, Sonea mused as she climbed the steps up to the third floor, not passing one Healer on the way. Most of them were in the Night Room, most possibly discussing her and Akkarin.

It was like herself. She would be no controversial heroine if she had not thrown the stone, nor happened to be at the place at that time. Fate…

And now Akkarin…

She'd always known that both of them had had a premonition of being hurt by the other or hurting the other. She had hoped they'd both make it out of this alive and well, but she also felt a dread deep down that that would not ― could not ― be so.

Now, with Akkarin in the Healing Quarters, that small whirlpool of emotions, which had once been subdued by other more impending matters, had turned into a great torrent. Worry, gratitude, love, guilt, anger, sorrow…

Her hand was on the doorknob. Pushing all the emotions away, just like before when entering the High Lord's Residence, she turned the handle and pushed carefully.

Takan was watching over Akkarin. After two days completely delirious and dangerously frail, Akkarin was now in a more 'stable state'. Takan knew what to do, and she needed to go see Rothen, who was recovering from the painful treatment for his shoulder. She'd also decided not to stay by Akkarin all the time for a…metamorphic reason…

It took her a few seconds to comprehend what she was seeing, during which surprise, panic, confusion and relief tore through.

Takan was looking at somewhere near her, his gaze distant, but when he noticed Sonea he jerked his head meaningfully to one side, something Sonea had to admit she did not understand.

As she walked over, the Sachakan gently laid Akkarin back on the bed, being careful to lay his hands, which were bound with strips of linen, on his sides on the bed.

As she saw Akkarin's face, Sonea could already guess what had happened. His face was streaked with tear stains, and his breathing, though steady, was heart-wrenchingly shallow.

She felt a rising fear. She'd hoped Akkarin would get over the nightmares after being mostly Healed. Physically.

What if…?

Stop! Thinking and worrying so will…

Even Vinara had stayed silent on the matter of whether Akkarin would truly recover. Sonea knew he was still in pain. The Healers had done as much as they could without practically killing him with Healing magic he could not respond to; Akkarin didn't have enough in his body to fix it so fast…

"Lady Sonea," Takan whispered, jolting Sonea out of her thoughts. He motioned towards the door and she followed him.

Takan stood by the door in the corridor, facing Akkarin's bed. Sonea leaned slightly against the doorframe, a mixture of dread and hope swirling inside her.

"A nightmare," Takan said in a low voice, "He spoke a little. He's dreaming about yeels, you know…"  
>Takan had become…shabbier, his hair tied back loosely. For the past few days he'd been either looking after Akkarin or concocting the mixture his friend was to drink. But what prompted Sonea to ask the dreaded question was what that Ichani had said so long ago. 'But the yeel tore her legs up; she wasn't able to run much afterwards.'<p>

'Takan,' she said haltingly. 'I just want to know. Has Dakova ever…?"

Takan's lips thinned. "Not… Actually, Dakova likes to chase after the slaves himself, and then give them a good beating or feed them alive to the yeels. Speaking of that… I really think, by what Akkarin was rambling… that… he was dreaming that he was being…"

He paused, his gaze drifting to Akkarin's bed. Sonea felt and urge to look there too, but it seemed that nothing was wrong and she fixed her gaze on the Sachkan before her.

"But Kariko did, mostly because he… well, he did this…" Takan took a deep breath, and then exhaled for quite a long time. "I heard him say most survive it, when he was visiting Dakova, but… Pardon me Sonea…they…don't live long because they can't follow up with the rest when the camp moves, and ―"

Sonea had heard enough. Shaking her head, which amazingly silenced Takan, she wanted to cry and laugh at the same time.

"Aye," she choked, her voice shaking with almost hysterical determination and amusement, "that _will not happen.__"_

**A/N: Eleanor Roosevelt or somebody said that we love people more for their weaknesses rather than their ****strengths…**

**I won****'****t be updating until the start of November: the exams are looming closer. I****'****m almost finished with the last chapter of my other fic Do Not Look Back and will update that as soon as I get home from the ****chemistry**** exam. Please R and R!**


	2. Chapter 1 Shields and Daggers

**A/N: Finally back! A thank-you for all (both) of you for reviewing! :D I am not really sure of how Sonea and Akkarin really feel for each other, if you know ****what**** I mean****—**** is it to the point that they call for each other after waking? ****F****or Sonea I think it is, but for Akkarin? ****N****ot critizing anyone, just that I want to go into it in my next chapter.**

**P****lease R and R!**

Chapter 1 Shields and daggers

It had come down to this.

Sonea stood along with the Guild's four new black magicians, Balkan, Sarrin and two other warriors as they surrounded Kariko, the only Ichani that remained.

The battle had stopped temporarily, but all the magicians maintained strong shields. The air crackled with power and practically shimmered and glowed with all the intensity, but all Sonea could see was the bloodied, limp figure Kariko was holding up by his long black hair. Akkarin.

Akkarin—

As Akkarin was locked in combat with the Ichani at the pass, who'd sneaked back to ambush them, Sonea knew he wasn't strong enough. She'd been rooted to the spot, but Akkarin's mental shout had forced her on.

How hard it must've been, engaged in full combat and telling her what to do at the same time! She had hesitated, knowing what else this would mean.

Akkarin must've sensed it too, for he poured into her an understanding, using only seconds to explain what otherwise would have taken moments in words. Something Sonea could only understand so quickly when looking at it from Akkarin's point of view.

All in a flash—

The Ichani would not kill him now. Torture him, yes, but they would certainly want to bring him with them to Krylia, where he would witness the fall and destruction of his beloved Guild before being killed. If Sonea didn't go now and teach the Guild black magic, everything would surely end. But if she managed to return in time and defeat the Ichani in Krylia, she just might save him…

So she had run. After that it was like in a dream. She dared not ponder what Akkarin had told her, but had followed his instructions. After encountering Dorrien and helpfully at that moment seeing a vision from a magician of the fort being attacked, she had Dorrien evacuate all the villagers along the way to the guild.

She didn't see Akkarin from that magician's point of view, but she didn't dare wonder why…

Upon arriving in Krylia she'd contacted the Thieves, whom Takan had been staying with. The magicians—finally, thank heaven—had realized the truth of AKkarin's words. Ignoring King Merin, they'd elected four magicians to learn Black Magic. Cery by then had, with the help of that secret magician who'd refused to teach her, found over a hundred dwells who were willing to and could be a source. Sonea had taken their power. The others drew power from the other magicians and the Arena.

At first they had all given Sonea the feeling that she shouldn't participate in the battle, and instead should go out of the city along with most of the population. It was practical—she had not the skill. But Sonea knew this was her battle too. If they won, she needed to be there for Akkarin. If they lost, she would go down fighting; her life already felt hollow. What would she do without Akkarin?

But she didn't say that. No one knew about their relationship yet, and as Akkarin had said, the Guild was too weak. She simply stated that she was the only one here who had ever encountered an Ichani, and had found a way and thus might find another one.

And now only kariko remained.

"Strike, and I'll kill him," Kariko jeered madly, shaking Akkarin's motionless figure. Sonea involuntarily took in how bad he looked.

Akkrin's face was covered with blood, and something was unthinkably wrong with his legs. Bloodied rags hung on his frail frame and his hands were tied quite unnecessarily in front of his. His eyes were closed and he didn't seem to be breathing.

Sonea sent her senses outwards to him, feeling desperately for a spark of power. A spark of life.

It was there, small and diminishing but there—

Kariko laughed and kicked Akkarin, who gave no reaction. Snarling, the man gave an even harder kick. Sonea didn't know how she felt when Akkarin's face, almost recognizable with all the blood and grime, was contorted with pain. For a moment his eyes opened, but they were unfocused and full of something beyond pain.

"Oh, he'd alive," Kariko laughed. He threw Akkarin on the ground and took out his dagger, glistening wickedly in the setting sun, and held it above the twisted heap. Turning his head slightly so that he faced Sonea directly, he cackled again, and she realized fully just how insane he was.

What they were to do was obvious. Of course they wouldn't – couldn't – surrender. If they all blasted Kariko at once it was sure to shatter his shield, but then he'd drop his knife and AKkarin, she knew, as probably did the four men standing with her, wouldn't be able to withstand the blow.

Either way, Akkarin would die, but at least he'd die quicker and in a comparatively less painful way. Oh that knife…if it weren't there.

A sudden desperate idea came to her. Could she move the knife with magic? She racked her mind, trying to recall whether a shield intended to block strikes would repel ordinary magic. But the hopeless situation made her reckless and daring. She was glad they had decided not to made blood gems.

It was too silent and still. Exerting her will, Sonea willed the dagger to move.

It did.

In an instant, surprised and exhilarated but bent now on revenge and clear about how it was to be done, Sonea used magic to yank the dagger out of Kariko's hands…

…and sent it plunging into his chest.

She didn't hesitate this time. That bastard deserved it.

Almost simultaneously four dazzling strikes shot from four directions at Kariko. The Ichani still had an amazing store of power, for the strikes only managed to shatter the shield but didn't hit kariko. The Ichani screamed as the dagger erupted from the front of his chest.

Sonea was already running towards the Ichani, and Akkarin, trying to get there before what remained of Kariko's power was let loose.

But she couldn't get there fast enough. Her mind was screaming at her: TOO SLOW TOO SLOW TOO SLOW—

Then Balkan appeared by the Ichani. And then crimson blood splattered from a hasty, swift cut. Balkan concentrated, his expression tense. And then Kariko, the true monster, fell dead.

But it wasn't over yet. As soon as she saw Kariko's eyes glaze over, Sonea dropped to her knees by Akkarin. He wasn't moving, and she poured all her remaining power into him, along with a trickle of Healing magic.

Akkarin's breathing became…louder. Everything seemed either to stand out too much or fade away to Sonea.

A pair of hands gently held her upright as pale hands protruding from purple material touched Akkarin's chest. A moment later Akkarin cried out and retched, his breathing becoming panicked.

They should've brought a Healer.

"VINARA!" she screamed with both her voice and mind. "Dorrien! Please SAVE HIM!"

She hoped, as blackness enveloped her, that she heard footsteps hurrying towards them…


End file.
